


so real

by amadridlover



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:18:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amadridlover/pseuds/amadridlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesc can't stop thinking about Iker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so real

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Jeff Buckley's song.

The pressure is mounting; building, growing. It’s getting more and more and more and more—

 

Cesc cries out, opening his eyes to meet a dark room. His chest is heaving as he gasps-in deep breaths. His heart is hammering. Cesc’s eyes are wide like a madman’s.

The rest of the house is silent, but for the occasional churning of the fridge. Cesc fancies he can hear it from his bedroom.

His dream is fresh in his mind, the images vivid and bright.

His mind is experiencing overload.     

 

Iker. He was there, all-consuming in his nature. Taking up all the space, all the air. Cesc shudders, blinks rapidly. Iker’s face remains. He can’t get him out of his head, his thoughts. His brain is screaming Iker.

 

His eyes are intense, controlling. Even in his dream they are so. Cesc doesn’t remember much but he remembers Iker’s eyes. And his mouth. His voice. Iker’s hair. His pale skin. But it all comes back to his eyes. His smouldering, volcanic eyes.

 

Iker. Iker.Iker.

 

The pressure of his hands on Cesc’s waist, gripping his hips, running over his thighs. Cesc flushes at the thought of it. The way he tugs at his hair drives him wild. Cesc’s breath hitches.

 

The clock radio reads three twenty-eight.

 

Boo-boom. Boo-boom. Cesc’s heartbeat is loud in his ears.

 

I-ker.

He feels dizzy.

 

He has a little gap between his incisor and his front tooth. It distracts Cesc when he smiles. He wants to lick into his mouth, taste him, suck him. Cesc’s head rushes. When he closes his eyes he can’t ignore the pair staring back at him, burned into his retinas, etched into his thoughts.

 

Cesc takes a gulp of air. He nearly chokes on nothing.

 

He feels his blood pulsing in his veins, travelling in his body. Cesc rubs at his eye in resignation. There’s no getting rid of it.

Iker’s lips curve into a smile. He kisses at his neck, trails his teeth along his jaw. Cesc straightens the white t-shirt he is wearing to bed with his hands, tugging at the hem slightly. Iker’s hands flatten his hair, stroke his cheek.

Cesc grimaces, lying onto his back, looking up.

Iker’s hands wander down, touching, pressing, rubbing. His eyes don’t leave Cesc’s, his mouth open from concentration. Cesc can feel his light pant, his breath warm against his cheek.

 

He groans and rolls onto his front.

 

Iker is on repeat. Cesc closes his eyes and can’t press pause. (Does he want to?)

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
